Through the Eyes of the Fox
by Tovinar
Summary: I've always had the odd feeling that something was missing from Zorro, so I put it in. Not based on any one version of Zorro, but it has elements of a lot of them. Reading and reviewing would be nice.
1. Returning home

_Hey, everyone.. This is just a thought I had about Zorro. See, I've always thought that Zorro should have a fox. It seemed to make a lot of sense to me, but no one seemed to agree with me. SO I wrote it out myself. This little story is written from the fox's point of view. If you don't like the idea, don't tell me. I have a very fragile sense of... self-worth, I guess. No, I think it's confidence I'm lacking. My self-worth is pretty high. Anyway, helpful criticism always appreciated, at least as long as it's nicely given. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Zorro or anything. But then, I'd think that's pretty obvious._

I lay on the bed. I could feel the earth slowly roll beneath my paws, and the smell of the sea permeated the room I was in. I sighed, well contented. I had just eaten, and that, along with the pleasant heat, served to make me sleepy. I could feel myself slowly sink into unconsciousness.

I opened my eyes a little later, when I heard the door to my room open. My ears pricked up. It was only the servant though. I let my head fall back on my paws, utterly unconcerned with this person. The only person I was concerned about was mine. He was the only one who was even distinctly fox-like. Everyone else was like the mice and squirrels. My person-fox followed the servant into my room after a little while.

I stretched and got to my feet, then hopped lightly onto the floor. I yipped up at my person. This brought the usual reaction, a slight caress of his hand. I loved his smell. I rubbed against him in delight. I could tell that he was glad as well. He had just been up on board fighting with another person with the removable claw the people sometimes used. I had learned that he referred to it as a 'sword', and I had come to think of it in that way too, since it was shorter than removable claw. Of course, it was easily understood why a person would want a claw. They had none of their own, after all. I was proud in my person, because I could tell that he won everyone else when they play-fought with their swords.

I could tell that this time he had won quickly, for he wasn't as tired as he usually was, and even that was negligible compared to his opponents. He made some sounds then, the only one of which I discerned was "Bernardo", which referred to his servant, also a new concept for a small fox. It was well known that people couldn't read scent names the proper way, so they used sound names to distinguish each other instead. They used sound to distinguish pretty much everything. Still, I had to admit that it made it easier for another to understand what one meant, or so it seemed to me. This was no doubt due to their extreme disability to notice obvious things, like when another was feeling hungry or upset. They had to, instead, convey everything in sound. My fox-person was more observing than most, and he knew immediately when I wanted something, and how I felt, although I did have to exaggerate my feelings for him to pick up on them. Still, it was more than most people could do, and I felt that, with training, he would be even more of a fox than he was now.

He sat down on my bed, and I jumped up to sit beside him. He continued to 'speak' with Bernardo, who said nothing in reply. This was because he couldn't talk. I thought this made him better at observation, but it certainly didn't make him a fox. Still, he was an acceptable human companion for my person, who I would have guarded zealously if I felt that a certain 'friendship' was harmful to him.

I had learned quite a lot of concepts in my short one-year life that most foxes never learned. But I had to learn them, because otherwise my person wouldn't be cared for; he was quite rash and impulsive.

Sitting contentedly on his lap, I thought back to the day when it was decided that this would be my person. I could remember it as though it was yesterday, although it had been my mother who had done the deciding. My ancestral memory served me well, though, and helped me to pick up on the weird human habits my mother had spent her time observing.

She had been wandering through the forest, when she came upon a young human. He had been instructed by an old woman, one of those who was still in connection with the Earth around her. She had recognized him immediately as a fox, and understood that it was her duty to make this connection clear to him. From that moment on, she had followed him at a discreet distance, always staying out of sight of everyone else. She had followed him on board a 'ship' like the one I was now on, and onto the mainland quite a ways away. She had never fully understood the weird journey.

When I was born, she had deposited me into the arms of the person-fox, and had left, never to see me again. I didn't mind. This person-fox was mother enough to me.

I listened more carefully to my person's speech. I recognized the words "home" and "soon" and "la zorra pequena", which was his long name for me. I had made it clear that I didn't appreciate the sound names he had tried to foist on me, so in the end he just called me 'little fox', or simply "zorra"(fox). It had been very confusing for me to realize that both 'fox' and 'zorra' referred to me. Same with 'little' and 'pequena'. Stupid bi-linguists. But I was now up to date, and we were going 'home'. I realized that it was technically home for me too. After all, I remembered the places from my mother's memories. There was a happy mood in the room that day.

The next few days passed in manner similar to the ones before, except that now there was excitement in the air as everyone prepared to land. I was excited too. I would get to meet all the people my fox-person knew. From his expression when he spoke of the place, I knew that home was joyous and peaceful. It shouldn't take me long to fit into the society there.

Finally, the day that everyone had been waiting for arrived. Or, at least my person had been, and he was close enough to everyone for me. A lot of people felt the same way; my person was very magnetic and charming.

We made our way into town in a carriage, closed because people tended to be nervous if they suddenly saw me. So I remained unseen for the whole journey to mine and my person's home. When we arrived, he got out of the carriage and was greeted solemnly by the people there. I understood that they were servants, or something similar. It was very hard to understand all the fine distinctions between class. I sat in the carriage while Bernardo began unpacking. It was too hot for me to spend a lot of time in the sun, seeing how my fur was thick and black. I would wait until my person came and told me the room was ready. Hopefully a ground floor one, or even underground so as to escape this infernal heat.

My person-fox came out again a while later, but he was rather unhappy. I wondered what had happened. No servants followed him to the carriage, and we were alone. He tapped Bernardo's shoulder, and motioned for him to bring the things to his room and quickly.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," he said. I only caught a few words, but I got the gist of it. I quickly leaped out of the carriage and followed him to the room, which was on the upper story. I sighed, perhaps this was what had upset him. I jumped up onto the bed and grumbled at him. He gave me a brief smile.

"I know it's hot right now, little Zorra, but it's colder in the evening."

I lay down. What _was_ troubling him if not the weather?

Bernardo made his way into my fox-person's room, carrying a couple of bags. My person had been pacing the whole time, but when Bernardo came in, he went over to help him carry the things and set them up around the room. After they were done, Bernardo signed a question. This was another difficulty in my young life. Not only did I have to learn English and Spanish because my person, and presumably all of California, was bi-lingual, but I also had to contend with the fact that there was a third language I needed to understand and respond to; sign language.

"_What's wrong?"_ asked Bernardo.

My person sighed, and explained something in a tired voice. He looked very upset.

Bernardo sat down on the bed, clearly thinking. I wondered too. All I had gotten from his statements was that the alcalde, and I wasn't quite sure who that was, had done something that upset my person-fox, and it included his father. That explained why he wasn't home. He was somewhere else, presumably arguing with this alcalde. Or was he? Would my fox-person be so upset if his father was arguing or even fighting? We fought often at the University in Madrid, and he was never upset about it then. I yipped in question.

My person looked over. "My father was jailed, Zorra." I cocked my head. I didn't understand the last word but that was clearly the source of the problem. "Jailed is when someone puts you into a big cage."

I was taken aback. Sure that I understood, my fox-person returned to contemplating the ground.

Why would anyone put another into a big cage? Clearly the alcalde and his father had had a disagreement, I understood that from his previous explanation. Then the alcalde must have put my person's father into a big cage. Why hadn't he put the _alcalde_ into a cage? Or, to say it properly, why wasn't the alcalde jailed? Did my person's father lose a fight, perhaps with swords? But my person talked of his father with such pride, and we foxes wouldn't be proud of someone who just... lost. Maybe it was an exception. Everyone was allowed to feel bad once or twice.

As I was attempting to understand what was going on, Bernardo signed a question that I missed. Although judging by the completely new and foreign topic under discussion, I probably wouldn't have understood it anyway.

My person-fox stood up in agitation at Bernardo's words. I whined, attempting to placate him. Usually I would press against his legs; it had a calming influence on him. But if I did that now he probably wouldn't notice and would trip over me, which as I knew from experience was rather unpleasant for both of us. "There's nothing I _can_ do!" he exclaimed, then spoke again, getting more annoyed with every word he uttered. He said something about getting jailed, which I thought was absurd. My fox-person could beat anyone in any kind of fight. He wouldn't get jailed, would he? Also something about the alcalde going after his family. It seemed to me that the alcalde had some people behind him, like a pack of dogs. I hate dogs, they're always far too eager to try to catch me and my kin. If he did have a pack, then that would explain my person's father's jailing, and why he was nervous of them going after his family.

They both looked defeated at this. I had to admit it was a hard point to pass. If Diego de la Vega sprung his father from this jail place, then the alcalde would know where to send his pack for retribution. But who else could go after his father? All three of us in the room knew that only my person-fox had a chance of going into a pack's den, free his father, and return with both of them alive.

My person sat down on the bed, and placed his head in his hands. Bernardo leaned against the wall, and I sighed as I placed my head on my paws. They clearly thought it was impossible. _Can I do it?_ I wondered. If I were to try to go into a pack's den in such a way that they couldn't follow me to mine, then the only way to do that would be to... disguise my scent! Of course! It was so simple.

I yipped to get my person's attention.

"What, little fox?" asked my person.

I jumped off the bed. How to explain? I pretended first that I was captured by a pack of dogs. My person-fox laughed at that. Then I left that scene, and tried to sneak into the area where I had been. Then I sniffed myself tiptoed through the place, and hid. An odd game of charades. I'd have to find a proper way to communicate with him if he needed my help much more often.

He still looked confused, so I came up to him, sniffed _him_, then pretended to not be able to track him around the room. I looked at him again.

"Make sure they can't follow my scent?" he looked thoughtful. "The problem is that _this_ pack of dogs, they're called lancers by the way," he pointed out to me. "don't follow scents. I'm more worried of them recognizing my face."

Both he and Bernardo looked at each other.

"That's it! I'll cover my face." he grinned. "This might just work."

Bernardo signed, "_You should try talking to him_."

My fox-person sighed. "I suppose I should. It would seem weird if I wasn't upset over this. But I'm sure it won't do anything, my father wrote to me that he has tried talking to the alcalde himself, and the alcalde seems deaf to reason. I would have come earlier, I just had no idea things were this bad; that the alcalde could jail a caballero like my father astounds me to no end. Well, Bernardo, let's make an appearance in the pueblo and gauge our adversary's strength. Zorra, stay here, alright?" he patted me on the head when he asked the question.

I chirped a yes to the question, then made my sound for food.

"Of course. Bernardo could you carry a meal to my room? I guess I'll be eating in here with the little fox since it would seem weird if you carried it to an empty room."

Bernardo nodded and left the room. I sighed. It seemed like I'd be left alone the rest of the day, but I could spend my time eating with my person. I gazed adoringly at him, and rested my head in his lap.

ZZZ


	2. First rescue

_HEY THERE! So, I've edited this and resubmitted it. It's horrible that I had to do that, but it had to be done. It was only little things, though, sentence structure, missing commas. That sort of thing. I promise I'll edit things _before_ posting them next time._

We made our way into the pueblo under the cover of night. We had to walk quietly and quickly so that we weren't seen by anyone. As we made our way in, I noted the structure of the pueblo, as well as the major buildings. My fox-person pointed them out silently to me. Here was the tavern, that road led to the mission. We slunk close to the cuartel where the jails were.

I looked the place over. It was clear we wouldn't get in through the gate. So we'd have to go over the roof. My fox-person knew this too, he had explained our plan earlier. At this time of night, there would be very few guards guarding the jails. And the few guards who would be awake would be extremely bored, and after the few months of no protestation by the people- they'd gotten used to the cruel alcalde- they would have no reason to expect a break-in like the one we were planning.

My fox-person climbed up the walls, then pulled me up after him. It was rather uncomfortable, but I'd rather be in there than out here. We did all this silently, but I could tell he was still nervous that someone noticed. I didn't hear anyone on the ground, so I gave him a reassuring lick. He calmed down quickly, because he knew he could trust me on things like this. He looked into the cuartel, figuring out exactly where everyone was, and how best to free his father. Luck was on our side. The only guard, a big fat one, was asleep, and his father was awake. He jumped down into the cuartel.

A gasp was heard down below. I stayed on the wall, ready to give the alarm if anyone woke up and came after him. His darkly clad form moved to the guard, where he woke him up with a sword pointed at his back.

"Don't say a word," he warned in a low tone. "Where are the keys to the cell?"

The _lancer_ was visibly shaking. I would have laughed at the scene if it wasn't so serious. Besides, the sound of my laugh might have woken someone up, which would have been horrible for the plan.

"Here they are," the lancer said, holding up a circle with long pieces of metal on it.

"Very good," said my fox-person with a smile. He took the metal things- _keys-_ from the lancer, then knocked him out. We couldn't have him raising the alarm, now could we?

My fox-person walked stealthily over to the cell with his father in it, and he opened the door by doing something with the metal things.

"Who are you?" asked the ever cautious prisoner.

There was a slight pause, then my fox-person said, "Just call me Zorro. Now let's go."

His father- _Don Alejandro_, I reminded myself- exited the cell. My fox-person pointed him to the wall. It was far easier to climb from the inside than the outside. Don Alejandro walked over to the wall and climbed up. Upon seeing me, he gasped, but he was quickly shushed by my fox-person who had come up behind him, albeit a little later than he should have. I looked at him curiously and yipped in question.

"I scratched my mark on the wall, little fox, a _Z._" His father gave him a curious look too. "The little Zorra asked why I was behind. Let's go."

He led the way over the wall, while I went after Alejandro. Once we were on the ground and outside of the pueblo, my fox- person instructed his father to go to his house. I yipped proudly. This had been extremely simple. Absurdly simple.

"They'll be waiting for us next time, Zorra," he said as we started for the place where Bernardo waited with horses. "It was only easy now because they were complacent in their invincibility."

Yes, and we had exploited it, like walking into a sleeping pack and leaving no trace of our entrance. Well, except for an unconscious guard and the stories his father would no doubt tell. I hoped I featured in those stories, I was, after all, the smarter one in this relationship. He was right, of course, he usually was. As we headed for home, I thought about what we would need for the next time. If the pack was awake the next time we had to enter their den, we would need a quick get-away. And running off on a horse clearly belonging to my fox-person's father did not seem very conducive to hiding our trail. We'd need a new horse. One that my fox-person would only ride when he needed to hide who he was. I wondered if he realized it. It didn't matter, I'd get him the horse. Seeing how I could no longer be with him under the light of day, or at least when he wasn't hidden, I'd need something to do anyhow. And we'd need to find some time when we could work on a better understanding of each other's speech. I had a feeling it would be very important over the coming weeks.

Or would it be months, or years? How long would this go on? After a certain point, wouldn't it be impossible to change back? We, my fox-person, Bernardo and I, had discussed it, and it had been agreed that we would all have to act all the time. My fox-person would play a passionless persona who couldn't fight or even get excited over much other than his books; Bernardo was going to pretend to be deaf so that he could get more information by listening to people, since they'd be freer with their speech if they thought he couldn't hear. I was only losing time with the person I loved more than anything, but I would help him over the day by watching things he couldn't, and eavesdropping. But after a few _years_, wouldn't it be nearly impossible to change the way he acted around others, when he didn't wear the little black mask?

It all depended on others, I suddenly realized. If we got a respite early on, then he might be able to accept the change, and unmask for the pueblo. Then he could become a normal member of the community. Otherwise, this would be a life-long deception. The three of us had rashly decided to possibly give our whole lives to this undertaking. Well, Bernardo could be out whenever he wished, I supposed. He wouldn't ever leave the fox-person, though.

We reached the hacienda before his father did, obviously. It had hurt my fox-person to think of letting his father walk home, but how could we keep up the deception if we had brought him home on his own horses? Once again, the message was pounded in my mind that we needed a horse of our own.

Bernardo voiced this concern as we were putting away the horses, silently so the servants wouldn't catch us awake.

"_You need a horse of your own, or the servants will catch on._"

My fox-person smiled. "Preferably a black one."

"_Who cares what color it is? It just has to be fast."_

I laughed quietly. My fox-person was all about appearances. It was a good thing Bernardo payed more attention to the practical aspect of things. I hoped I'd be able to fulfill both their desires, but I knew that speed and stamina had to come first.

We entered the cave that we had decided would keep everything pertaining to this alter-identity, and my fox-person changed back into the normal clothes he usually wore. The ones he had worn were all black, and very smooth. He also put away his sword and whip.

"By the way, Bernardo, I've decided on a name for this bandido. I called him Zorro."

Bernardo looked at me, then smiled. "_It fits."_

"And I've decided to leave a mark on everything I do. I carved a _Z_ into the wall of the jail cell where my father was being kept."

"_You are amazingly narcissistic. Do you _really_ want the alcalde to know everything you're going to do?"_

"Si. I'm not going to let anyone else take credit for the things I do."

I agreed with my person-fox; he was the mild-mannered caballero now. "Just remember to be deaf, and to act surprised when my father comes in." he turned to me. "You'll be fine?"

I nodded. He gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head, then they went up the stairs which led back into the house.


	3. Hunting for horses

_Hey! Here I am with chapter three, read and edited and everything. Yay! Oh, and thanks everyone for the reviews. They give me a warm fuzzy feeling._

I crept out of the cave as the sun was rising, turning the cloudless sky into a brilliant shade of pink. I breathed in the dry air of Los Angeles, processing the scents in the air and sorting through them. After I had accustomed myself to the landscape, I began my quest.

Heading away from the pueblo and the hacienda, I followed a small, little used trail across the land. The arid scorched my dark fur, making my progress slow. I had eaten and drunk before leaving, but the first priority was still to find a river; without one I would soon be dehydrated. Besides, any wild horses on these plains would head towards water.

After following the trail for about a half hour, I heard a small stream to my right. I left the trail, soon coming across the aforementioned stream, cutting bravely across the dry earth. On its banks the plants bloomed; a small strip of green. I took a quick drink, and followed it downstream since it would, no doubt, empty into a lake. Or a pond, which was more likely.

The sun slowly climbed into the sky. I glanced at it as I passed through the landscape, upsetting the inhabitants of the country. I reached the pond and searched around it for the scent of a horse. I'd have to have it home soon after nightfall, but not before. If I brought it before then someone was bound to notice. I had all day, so I took my time and searched carefully.

There! The scent of a herd reached my nostrils. It was only a day old, but it smelled as though it was often replaced. There was a good chance the herd would return to this pond today to slake their thirst.

_I_ wanted to get a stallion. They were feisty and strong, and besides, they cut a better figure. No one wants to talk of a hero on a mare. Unfortunately, there is usually only one stallion in a herd, other than the small foals, and I wasn't going to take one of those. If the stallion of this herd was no good, I'd have to find a whole other herd. Another complication was the type of horse I was looking for in general. A fast horse with a lot of stamina was not something I could keep up with in a long run through the country, and if I settled for patiently tracking it, it would take much longer than a day. Nothing I could do about that, of course, so I settled down to wait patiently under the cover of a few bushes.

I didn't have very long to wait. The herd came up to the pond soon after I had settled down. I looked them over and quickly spotted the stallion; by his scent and bearing. He was a strawberry roan. I sighed, then checked the time. It was still early morning. I looked the horse over. I didn't know much about horses, but he seemed to have a slightly stocky build. He might be slow. I'd have to keep looking, but where?

It was likely that the horses had a safe haven somewhere, where other horses might also pass through. If I followed this herd, there was a chance that I'd come upon the scent of another herd, but it would take all day if I left them to their own devices. I got up to slowly prowl around until I was very near the horses, and downwind as well. Then I jumped into their midst, scattering them in all directions. After a short drink, I began, at a leisurely pace, to follow the horses. It didn't take long for the scent of another herd to overlap the path of the terrified horse I was following.

I eagerly followed the new trail, and, since it was a bit old, I took it at a run. Luckily, this herd either had not moved for days, or, more likely, returned to the same spot to sleep. Either way, I found the still groggy horses about three hours after dawn.

I studied the herd. The lead stallion here was a brown, but he looked fast. It seemed like my fox-person would just have to content himself with the brown. There was time still; I would hunt before pursuing this one.

After about a half hour, I returned to the herd. It had moved since I had last seen it, but slowly, allowing me to catch up to it quickly. I was fed, watered, and as ready as I could be to chase a fast horse across unfamiliar territory for what would likely be the rest of the day. If I was able to keep a map of the land in my head, I might be able to guide the horse towards home. Calculating haphazardly, I stampeded the herd and ran quickly after the stallion.

We ran over the shrubs and the hot sand. We ran through a river which came up to my chest. On and on we ran, me keeping pace with the horse like a small black shadow, the earth puonding under my paws. After ten minutes, I could feel myself tiring, but I gave no indication of it. Neither did the horse. Very good.

We ran into the northern- and largely uninhabited- section of the De la Vega rancho nearly a half hour later. Both of us were visibly tiring, but fear lent speed to the horse's hooves and I dutifully kept pace. It was an achievement for me to have lasted this long; foxes aren't made to run long distances, but I stayed right behind the horse.

At least I did until we ran right into another one. The brown I was following swerved and ran on, thinking only of escaping my grasp. I would have followed, but the other horse reared at nearly being run into, and fear for _my_ life kept me from running under its hooves. I stopped quickly, and retreated a few steps, then looked longingly after the trail of dust the brown had left behind it. It was long gone.

The new horse hit the ground on its unadorned hooves. It was clearly wild, I couldn't smell any human on it. I looked it over. It was also a stallion, and black as well.

I stepped closer to it, and the stallion reared again, driving me back. I yipped, and ran under a bush for protection. The horse settled back onto all fours, and eyed the bush I was under warily. This was it, I thought with triumph. This was the horse. It seemed like it'd be fast, and it was brave. I hoped he had endurance as well, and intelligence. But before finding out, I needed a drink. The run had been tiring, and I could have been in for another one. I memorized the location of the horse so I'd be able to find it again, then I disappeared silently into the shadows behind the bushes.

Z Z Z

The stupid horse would not move. After I had realized that trying to run the horse towards the cave would be unsuccessful, I had tried to lure it there. Unfortunately, the horse was as obstinate as it was brave, and would not budge. It hadn't moved while I had gone to eat, and it gave me the clear message that it was _not_ moving from this spot and letting me win in the battle of wills we were exhibiting. I was exasperated.

I sat down next to the horse, watching it carefully for any indication that it was planning to give in to my demand to either run away from or come after me. The stallion watched me back, keeping one eye fixed on me and my movements. I was, after all, a predator. I was a very smart and cunning predator, and strong and swift and brave. I'm quite incredible, actually. I'm also very manipulative. I can get anyone to do anything I want. Why wouldn't the horse just oblige and follow me?

We remained there, stalemated. I lay down on the warm ground. The warm sun beat on my fur, and my stomach was full. The shade of the tree I was next to kept me from being overbearingly hot, and the sound of the wind moving across the landscape was soothing. My eyes slowly closed, and I fell asleep.

I jumped back with a yip. The horse had nudged me, but upon hearing my yell it backed up and neighed, tossing its head. I looked at it distrustfully. It calmed down, then approached me again, seemingly curious as to just what I was doing.

I _had_ been sleeping, and quite peacefully too, but that didn't seem to be what the horse had in mind. It seemed more curious as to why such a fearsome predator, me, would fall asleep while hunting. It sniffed me, and I raised my head to smell it back.

When I was younger, at the university, my person-fox once got a new horse. He explained to me that horses are very easy to train because they're adaptable and intelligent. They are also very loyal. When he first met the horse, he had breathed into its nostrils, saying that this was the way the horse would get acquainted with you.

This horse would have to be all those things, and I hoped that the other lesson would be true too. I breathed out at the horse, letting it smell my breath. It seemed to accept that, and went back to looking for grass, no longer worried that I would be a threat.

Perhaps persuasion would work better than a threat. I rubbed up against its legs, and walked off a little ways and looked back. The horse looked at me, and did nothing. The move had always worked with humans! Ugh. I went back to it, yipped for attention, then walked off a few steps. Once again the horse remained stationary. I whined at it, pleaded, to no avail. I grabbed some of its tail hair and gently tugged. The horse turned around and nipped at me.

At least it was something. The horse seemed much more interested in its food than anything else.

The food! I'd lure it to me with food. I ran off to gather some sweet grass, and ran back. This time the horse eyed me with a keen interest. I placed it down near me, then went back a few steps.

The horse snorted in annoyance, probably at being manipulated so well by me, but it came to eat the grass. I let out a breath of relief. I'd get it home this way. I gauged my time, and went to work.


	4. Riding the Storm

_Sorry about the time in between this post and the last one, especially since the last chapter was a lot of fun to write, but not very plot important. Ah well, I thought it was interesting. Anyway, here is the next chapter, and don't worry, it's got things happening in it. Important things. _

My fox-person was rather excited about the horse when I brought it back to the cave. He rubbed it down, and stroked its neck, and the infuriating animal just let him do it.

"This is a beautiful horse, don't you think Bernardo?" he stated. "It doesn't look wild to me, I can see the speed in the legs and the neck. It's probably an escaped Andalusian from one of my father's herds. Look, you can see the similarities in the way he raises his head, and you can tell from the way he seems comfortable in here and with me that he wasn't raised wild. Besides, I think I remember something about a horse which escaped from the rancho a little while after I left..."

At this point I stopped listening. My person-fox has the unique ability of being able to bore anyone to tears by babbling incessantly about a subject. I've noticed that this seems to be a defense mechanism most of the time, getting the other person to leave him alone, sometimes even to go away. It was remarkable to see.

I got up and rubbed against him, stopping his speech on horse anatomy and bloodlines effectively. I cocked my head and yipped questioningly. He looked at his feet. I glanced over at Bernardo and repeated my question.

"_The alcalde has arrested his father again, except this time he has added escaping from prison to his crime of being disruptive." _he signed.

Well, that sort of made sense. If he hadn't done it immediately he would lose his power over the region. Besides, it was silly for us to just break him out of the cell. We would need to confront the alcalde himself and get him to take back the arrest for Alejandro to be free. How annoying. I grabbed the Zorro mask and set it at my fox-person's feet.

"Yes, I suppose we will. This time I will ride this horse. What should we name him, Bernardo?"

"_Zorro's big black horse?"_

"You have no imagination, Bernardo," sighed my fox-person. "we will call him Tornado because he is as fast as the wind."

Did we ride tonight, or were we going to sit around all day and talk about names? I made hastily for the outside exit of the cave and looked back expectantly, giving the clear message of "_let's go._"

Bernardo looked concerned, however. "_This horse, even if he has once been ridden, he hasn't been for a long time. He will probably throw you to the ground."_

"No he won't. I trust him."

Bernardo looked exasperated, and looked at me for support. I shrugged. In my opinion, there were three choices. He could walk, which would definitely get him killed. Or he could ride a De la Vega stallion which would most likely get him killed; horses were a big part of the Californian lifestyle, people here noticed each others mounts. Or he could ride the breezy horse, which might get him killed, if the horse dropped him on the ground. Between definitely, most likely, and might get him killed, I was betting on the black stallion.

My fox-person didn't wait for Bernardo to agree, he simply got ready and bean to put tack onto the horse. We all watched cautiously as my fox-person convinced the horse to wear the saddle and bridle, and held our breaths as he swung onto the horse, who snorted and pranced from foot to foot at the sensation of being ridden. My fox-person soothed the horse, calmly patting it and reassuring the stallion.

No doubt my fox-person was right about the stallion's being ridden before, because it responded properly to being ridden. My fox-person slowly urged the horse forward and out of the cave, where the horse proceeded to get slightly nervous again. Bernardo came to help with the horse, and I kept a close watch on it as well. My fox-person made the horse go at a slow canter across the countryside, leaving Bernardo at home. The three of us gradually became used to the canter we were using, but before we had the time to try faster paces we reached the pueblo. My fox-person positioned the horse next to the window of the alcalde's room.

"Is he in there and alone?" he asked.

I put my ear to the wall, and breathed in the scents from the room. I could hear there was only one person in the room, and I thought it was the alcalde, though I wasn't sure. I gave my fox-person a nod.

"Stay with Tornado, make sure he doesn't leave." he pulled himself through the window.

I looked at the horse, who was calmly standing in place.

That's when it hit me. Just how lucky I was to have found this horse. How lucky we were that it remembered how to be ridden, that it was _this_ horse that was brave, and smart. That this horse would allow my fox-person to ride him was amazing. That it hadn't thrown him yet, that it had actually run away before it was branded. _How_ had I found such a perfect horse? It was astounding. Clearly the gods were watching over me, and hopefully my fox-person too. I sent up a fervent prayer to whichever gods were listening to watch over the two of us, and keep us safe. This farce could so easily end in our death.

From inside the room came the sounds of threatening, and the clanging of steel on steel. I did hear the alcalde retract his sentence concerning the imprisonment of Don Alejandro, which was good. Then my fox-person leaped out the window, and onto the stallion, digging his heels firmly into his sides. The horse leaped forward in surprise, then I heard the shout of "After him, lancers!" from the alcalde. We ran. So did the lancers. They managed to get out of the cuartel, and shot at horse and rider.

The gunshot sounded loudly across the plaza, no doubt waking people. The stallion, the brave stallion who had been unfrightened by the sight of a fox, grew terrified at the sound of a bullet passing near him, and ran headlong out of the plaza, my fox-person barely able to stay in the saddle, and completely out of control of the horse.

Great.

On the plus side, the horse was very _very_ fast. I was hard put to keep up with it. Luckily, so were the lancers that had finally thought of getting on horse back. We raced across open country. I hoped that when the lancers later told the tale they wouldn't describe the horse as being out of control.

When we came to a very wide gorge, I hoped the crazed stallion would stop. We weren't quite that lucky. I was, however, completely lost. The darned horse decided to just jump the gorge, without missing a beat. I didn't think about it; when I saw the horse cross the gorge I followed instinctively. I felt the air pass across my face as I realized what I'd done. Fear flowed through my veins as I realized that this could very well be the last jump I ever made. I stretched towards the opposite side of the gorge. My paws hit the earth on the other side, but only barely. My hind legs grasped at the side of the gorge, as I attempted to pull myself up. I could feel the earth crumbling under my claws. I grabbed at the land, trying to keep my fragile hold on the other side, scrambling at falling soil. I snapped at a nearby brush, holding onto life with the firm grip of my teeth. I slightly let go of my purchase so that I could be more comfortably in front of the bush I was holding on to. My claws dug into the roots of the plant, and with a heave I pushed myself over the side.

Once I was on firm ground I lay down, trembling from my close brush with death.

That's when I heard a slight moan coming from nearby. Hearing that weak desperate sound, my heart pounded harder than when my life had been in jeopardy. I all but ran up the trial to the dark form on the ground. I was going to kill that horse.

My fox-person had hit his head on a rock when he'd fallen off the back of the stallion. I nudged him slightly. He moaned again, but didn't open his eyes. I found where he'd hit his head; a small gash marked the spot. I licked it, then crooned at him, willing him to wake up. My heart was in my throat at the sight of him this way. I had to help him, somehow. I had to get Bernardo, he'd help I knew. But where was the hacienda? I had no idea where we were. I couldn't leave him here for the time it would take to go find help. I licked him again, willing him to wake.

I was going to kill that horse for this.

I sat by his side for an interminable length of time. It felt like hours. Part of me knew that I was no help to him; sitting at his side, waiting for him to rise. But I couldn't leave him. I couldn't go look for the horse, I couldn't go get Bernardo, who would be worried. The whole idea of this could be over when Don Alejandro returned home and found his son missing, and later someone might find his son dead by the side of the road. On his second ride, all because of the horse.

He moaned every once in a while, giving me hope, but to my worried mind the time between them seemed like ages.

I heard the soft steps of a horse approaching, but I didn't so much as flick an ear. What did it matter? The horse came closer, and nudged me. I finally looked up, straight at the reason for this problem. The blasted stallion was back, clearly apologetic. I turned away; I didn't wish to speak with him now. The horse went up to my fox-person and nudged him, eliciting another groan.

My mind began to slowly work. It hadn't been all that long since he'd hit his head, I realized. What I needed was to get him home before his father returned. If he would only wake up! The horse nudged him again, nearly turning him over.

"Stop," he muttered. My ears flicked back and forth. I cautiously crept over to him, and nudged him myself. Between the two of us, my fox-person slowly came awake, but he seemed disoriented.

"What happened?" I wished I could answer. Instead, I just pushed him towards the horse.

He seemed to understand, though he got up slowly. Thankfully he was soon on the horse. He seemed properly awake by now, and my heart lifted at the knowledge.

"Zorra," he asked. "Just where are we?"

I looked around. I mimed jumping a gorge to him, then looked at him questioningly.

He shook his head. "No, I'm not quite sure either. But, we did leave the pueblo riding in a northeasterly direction, so if we head directly west we should reach the rancho. Assuming we aren't completely out of the Los Angeles area by now."

I could tell by his stance on the horse that he was tired and his head hurt. But we needed to get home first, then he'd have to play the part of Diego for his father. Only then could we have a proper look at his head. He'd have to be strong for a while longer, I thought as he turned the horse towards home.


	5. New Experiences

_It's been a while, but there is a good reason for that. The reason is something along the lines of 'I have no ideas'. But summer is here, so I had the time and the incentive, so I wrote a little, and then I looked it over and went, 'this sucks'. But the encouragement that I received from your kind reviews has helped me continue my work. So here is the next chapter, enjoy it._

I lay under the bushes at the front of the house. I had slept in today; yesterday we had been out practicing on the horse. I didn't kill it, but only because my fox-person asked me not to. I find I can't deny him anything, but if that stallion throws him again, I won't wait around long enough for him to say anything concerning the subject. But the horse is coming along, or rather _Tornado_ is coming along. He really wants to please my fox-person, which is nothing surprising. Most of us have that reaction to him.

I've decided not to get lost anymore, so I've been running all over the territory, memorizing locations and trails. I've learned one thing very clearly over the last week; Los Angeles is a very big place. But, there is one place I have not been yet, and that would be the actual pueblo. And who better to accompany me to the pueblo than my person-fox? Well, more like I would secretly follow behind him and slink through the pueblo. But that's good too.

It was time to eat lunch, and I was sure my fox-person would go to eat lunch at the pueblo to get information out of the lancer he's befriended. I want to see this person. He can't just befriend anyone, after all. I have to protect him from unhealthy relationships. I _might_ be a teensy bit protective of him.

My nap was broken into when my person-fox left the hacienda, with Bernardo accompanying him. They slowly made their way towards the pueblo. My person-fox's demeanor had changed completely into his new persona. He held his head slightly down, shoulders a little hunched. It was very subtle, but the whole impression was that he was trying to hide from everyone. His eyes kept wandering from the ground to the sky, but he never looked directly where he was going. A book was under one arm, and he went unarmed.

I followed them into the pueblo, noting with pride that even on the open road he hadn't relaxed into his more confidant personality. He pulled up in front of one of the buildings in the pueblo, and went in. I made my way into the pueblo, making sure that I was unseen. This was harder in the streets than on the road, but I managed, as always. There hasn't been a time yet that I haven't managed. At the University in Madrid, I slunk around all the time; I am not overly fond of large groups of people. I'm a very private fox; I often stayed home or wandered through the streets on my own. I certainly wasn't at his side every single second of every day, I'm not dependent on him for my happiness. I just love him.

Still, the last week has been a bit trying. He rarely is around anymore, except at night time, and then only for a little while, and he's usually busy with the horse and exercises, sword and whip usually. That was one of the things that spurred me to follow him today. But not the only one. Like I said earlier, I am in no way dependent on him for my happiness, or on anyone else for that matter.

I managed to position myself close enough to the tavern to hear the talk going on inside. Clearly the story of Zorro had already made its rounds, because it wasn't a frequent topic of conversation. I heard my person-fox sit down at a table, and then I heard the rather louder thump of what could only be the lancer as he sat down as well.

"Hello, Sergeant," said my person-fox to the fat lancer. "how are things at the cuartel?"

"Oh, Don Diego. Things are tiring. The alcalde wants us to search for that bandit. He keeps sending us out into the hills. I rarely have time to sit down to a proper meal!"

I snorted. From the sound of him hitting the bench, I highly doubted his feeding schedule was too badly put off.

"Still? But that was a week ago!"

"Si, Don Diego, but the alcalde doesn't forgive that easily. He can't forget that this bandito humiliated him with a sword."

"Well, let's not dwell on these wearying things, it's too hot a day to think about that much riding in the saddle." my person-fox said with a sigh. "Will you have some wine, Sergeant?"

From there the conversation moved on to inane topics that had me yawning. Mostly it was the portly _Sergeant_ that was doing the talking, and none of it was interesting. After a while I tuned him out, and spent some time watching the streets for signs of anything interesting.

Some scruffy looking people were holding plant matter in big wooden carts in the street and were yelling at people. I couldn't quite figure out what they were doing as I was to far away to hear what they were saying over the noise from the tavern. I'd have to ask my person-fox about it later. The heat in the pueblo was oppressive, but after the last week I had realized that was its usual state. Some men walked slowly out of the _cuartel_, the same place my fox-person and I had gone into to save my fox-person's father. They sauntered over to a big wooden board attached to the side of the building, and proceeded to stretch over it a white sheet with scribbles on it.

Of course, I doubted they were random scribbles. My person-fox could get meaning from those scribbles. It was amazing. He could look at another person's scribbles and understand the _meaning _of the person who wrote it. He could 'talk' to people who were far away with these scribbles. They linked the people of his world. Even dead people's scribbles he understood, though that seemed creepier. He was basically talking to the dead. I shivered at the thought. To be able to understand what these dead people were saying, to know. What an amazing gift! If I could understand the scribbles, I would gain knowledge beyond imagination. I would know what other people knew, what they learned I could learn, without going through everything they did. It was about as amazing as speech, but this was hardier, it lasted longer, and it didn't require the other person to be nearby when that knowledge was divulged. Oh, to _understand_.

But I didn't feel _too_ bad about it. Most of the people didn't know either. We would all need my person-fox to tell us what was meant by the person who had sent his thoughts out to us on a sheet of white.

I saw the people begin to notice and after a while, a group formed in front of the white sheet. I came close enough to realize that none of them knew how to understand the scribbles, and they were all just standing around like a big flock of sheep. Particularly stupid sheep. One of them had the bright idea that they should call someone over, and a member of the group was picked and pushed towards the tavern.

My person-fox walked out, looking rather disgruntled at being interrupted. But he came up to the board and looked it over, Bernardo trailing beside him. Bernardo could understand scribbles too, but no one knew that, and they didn't have to. The less attention they paid to our little spy, the better.

"It seems," said my person-fox slowly. "that the alcalde has instituted a new tax upon the pueblo."

There were angry murmurings among the crowd. I could tell that my person-fox was unhappy about it too, but it was an intuitive thing, he hid his disgruntledness from the people around him. I bristled in response.

He went on to explain the new tax, which drew more angry mutterings from the crowd, then he turned to Bernardo, and, with a yawn, told him that they should be returning to the hacienda because he wanted to finish a book. There was an air of patrician unconcern around him, which caused some unhappiness in the people, but I wasn't fooled. I watched him reach his mare and somewhat clumsily get in the saddle before leaving the pueblo. As silent as a shadow, I followed.

Z Z Z Z Z Z

I sat in the cave, calmly awaiting my fox-person. He soon appeared, Bernardo following in his wake.

I yipped in welcome. I wanted to ask him about what had happened in the pueblo, but I had no words.

"They are an injustice to the people of the pueblo. I can't just stand back and watch the alcalde force the peons into starvation!" I noticed worriedly that he was upset, so I yipped again.

"Hey, little fox." he sighed and sat down on the seat that had been placed in the cave, suddenly weary.

"_What do you want to do?_" asked Bernardo.

I had moved over so that I was sitting with my head on my fox-person's lap, and he absently patted my head as he answered. "I think it's time for Zorro to make his first public appearance. Unfortunately, that means that I have to wait for the alcalde to punish someone, and _then_ step in. But if I'm going to make a stand for justice properly, then I might as well become a public figure as soon as possible. Besides, people already know who I am, so they won't be completely confused when we make an appearance." I realized that the 'we' was me and him. "and Tornado comes at my call now, so he should work out well. It's too bad I don't know the terrain very well. I'd hate to get lost again."

I yipped to draw his attention, then looked distinctly proud.

"_You know the land around here?"_ asked Bernardo, just to make sure he understood.

I nodded.

My fox-person smiled. "good. Now we have a plan and I should get back upstairs so that I can listen to my father complain about the taxes, and then complain about my not doing anything." he grinned, enjoying the secret.

"_Little does he know."_ replied Bernardo, also grinning slightly as he left up the stairs into the house.

My fox-person sat just petting me for a while. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I should have a language too. Bernardo had his own language because he couldn't speak. It seemed only fair that I had one.

I pulled away from my fox-person, causing him to look at me. I made a yip, a specific yip, and licked myself. Then I went over to Tornado and made another yip. Then I licked myself again and made the first yip. Comprehension dawned on my fox-person. I knew he was smart. He came over, pointed to me, and said "fox?" I nodded and yipped 'fox'. He grinned and yipped 'fox' back.


	6. Going Public

_Hey all! I'm back, with another chapter. How pleasant. Anyway, I thought this chapter was very hard to write correctly. For the longest time I couldn't decide just what was going to happen, then all at once it came to me at about three in the morning. So enjoy!_

I sighed in contentment. I was laying across my person-fox's lap, enjoying the sensation of being calmly petted. This was bliss. I reveled in the feel of him this close to me, in his scent. He was the most important part of my life. I listened to him tell me about his day. Nothing had happened yet. The people were too used to being oppressed by the alcalde that they just gave all they had. The penalty for not paying the taxes was a public whipping. This was often accompanied by a night in the jail cell, then several days of being unable to work due to the fact that someone has made slashes in the person's back. The people could afford that even less than the taxes. Besides which, the alcalde would usually just collect the money anyway, with armed forces. Everyone was unhappy about the situation, even the aforementioned armed forces, because they weren't being paid nearly enough. The only person who _was_ happy about it all was the alcalde, and after my person-fox got through with him, he wouldn't be happy either.

I, on the other hand, was very happy, at least at the moment. I'm still not quite sure why my fox-person wants to stop the alcalde's tax; it doesn't concern us as far as I'm concerned. I haven't been able to properly ask; my speaking is fairly limited. I managed to look confused when he talked about it, and I got something along the lines of 'if one group of people is oppressed, then we all are'. Personally, I don't get it. Probably never will, but it matters to him, and I'd do anything for him.

My person-fox rubbed behind my ears, and I sighed again. I sort of wish that he didn't care about the people, that he didn't feel compelled to take action in the way he did. Then I would have more time with him, just be around him all the time. But I knew him too well to expect him to just give it up for me. Or to have thought that he wouldn't do anything. He would be unable to live with himself if he did nothing. So I pushed thoughts of past and future from my mind and simply enjoyed the present.

It was over too soon. The servant rushed into the cave, signing wildly. Which caused my person-fox to stand up quickly, pushing me off his lap and to the floor. An unpleasant ending to a wonderful moment, in my opinion.

"_Someone's refused to pay their taxes. The alcalde's planning to publicly whip them for their disobedience." _signed Bernardo in agitation.

My person-fox quickly grew upset at the news, but I could only shrug. It was the old 'scare them into obedience' ruse, tyrants always tried it. Usually they filed because of that. I often wondered why tyrants tried to do that since there are so many historical stories of it _not_ working. Still, I suppose since the alcalde didn't expect to be here forever, it was a decent strategy. A shortcut to riches if you will.

"Where's my father?" asked my person-fox, moving towards the black outfit.

"_In town. He might hope you'll arrive, but he won't come looking for you until afterwords. No one saw me run off either, so they won't think that I'm here to tell you._"

"Good." he began changing into his 'Zorro' clothes as he called them. By the time he was done, Bernardo was done with saddling the horse. Quickly and quietly, we left.

We pulled into the pueblo silently and secretly, behind the cuartel. We came up next to the alcalde's office, where he kept the tax money he had wrung from the people. We had discussed what to do earlier, and we had decided that the people needed to understand right from the get-go that we were there to fight for them. So, clearly, the best way to gain their trust would be to return the tax money that was collected from them. That's what we were here to do.

Well, actually _they_ had discussed it, I was unable to, but I was in on the plan. After we stole the money, we would free the poor person, or _peon_, beat the alcalde at fencing - for the fun of it - and force him to lower his taxes before returning the money to the people.

I put my ear against the wall and listened to what was happening in the room. I heard footsteps, then the door opened and closed, leaving the room in silence. I nodded to my fox-person. He jumped in through the window, and I followed quickly, jumping first onto the horse, then through the window. The horse was rather upset by it, but accepted the maneuver because my fox-person had taught him to accept it. And the horse, like me, would do anything for him.

We crept silently through the dark room. My fox-person went straight to the back where the safe with the tax money was kept, while I went to the door to stand lookout. Well, hear-out, if we're being technical.

After a few moments, I heard my fox-person opening the safe. He gathered some money into a little bag, then carved a 'Z' onto the lid of the safe. I didn't think it was that good of an idea. The alcalde might think we just found the money elsewhere if we didn't leave a mark on the safe. The knowledge that we had robbed him would only serve to make him more determined than ever to catch us and kill us. But my fox-person's ego wouldn't let him do something this mischievous without telling everyone about it, and if he couldn't tell people normally, then he was sure to do it this way. Arrogant? Perhaps a little.

He came back into the main room then, and motioned for us to go. I followed him out of the window. In the plaza I heard the sound of the alcalde proclaiming something or other, so we hurried towards them. It was part of the plan, and the image he wanted to project, that we swoop in to save the peon at _just _the right moment. He pulled the horse up behind a building right next to the commotion- which sounded more like the quiet sound of defeat to me- and motioned for me to get as close to the whipping area as possible, then wait for the agreed upon signal. I nodded and left, quietly slinking towards the crowd. I pressed myself to the ground and the shadows, and carefully made my way through the press of the people. I did my best to touch no one in my way, and when I did on accident I was gone before the person turned to see who had brushed against them.

"Since this man has refused to pay the amount required of him, he will now pay the penalty, 10 lashes." the alcalde's annoying voice proclaimed.

I was right behind the front line of people at this point, and then halfway through the alcalde's words, there came gasps and people pointed up at the roof behind me. I knew who was there; my fox-person had no doubt decided to show himself.

"Your tyrannical rule over this pueblo is over alcalde! I will not allow you to whip this man for refusing to pay an unjust tax." his voice echoed in the plaza. I tensed.

"What will you do _Zorro?_" he spat out the name with scorn. "You will be dead soon. Lancers, shoot him!"

At 'lancers', I burst out of the crowd, yipping wildly and charged into the lancers, knocking them over and creating a ruckus, which caused them to fire wildly, often into the air. My fox-person, meanwhile, had jumped off the roof and vaulted onto the platform that held the alcalde and the disobedient peon. I heard him crossing blades with the alcalde as I occupied the lancers. I tripped some, threw myself at others, getting as many as possible off their feet. Personally, I feel that they should thank me, since they were complaining from too much time spent _on_ their feet only a few days ago.

I jumped over their fallen bodies and next to the two fighting men.

"Zorra, release him!" my fox-person yelled at me when he saw that I had some free time. I went over to the person, and bit through the ropes that kept him tied to the whipping post. He ran off quickly into the crowd. Smart guy.

"As much as I enjoy this, alcalde," stated my fox-person as he executed a disarming move. The alcalde's sword flew out of his grasp and into the crowd. My fox-person leveled his sword at the alcalde's chest. "I grow weary of fighting someone as inept as you." He made three slashes in the alcalde's uniform, forming a pretty 'Z'.

The alcalde sneered. "You may have beaten me, Zorro, but this changes nothing." I growled at the vehemence in his voice. No one should address my fox-person in that tone of voice! I moved to stand next to my fox-person, and showed my teeth to the alclade, who stepped back.

My fox-person only grinned. "Doesn't it? You are going to lower your taxes, alcalde, or you will feel my sword, comprende?"

"Fine. They're lowered." the alcalde cowered away from the sword point, and my teeth.

My fox-person grinned wider. "I always knew you were a reasonable person, alcalde." Then he turned to address the crowd in a louder voice. "People of Los Angeles, the alcalde generously has decided to return all the money that he gotten through his latest tax. Distribute it among yourselves." He pulled out the bag of money and threw it into the crowd.

They cheered, of course. Who wouldn't cheer at free money? The alcalde glared at my fox-person as he let himself enjoy his moment in the sun. I yipped to get his attention, then yipped 'home'. He sighed, then whistled for the horse.

That horse came running into the plaza perfectly. He looked great, and magnificent. I was quite proud of him. The people scattered before the horse, who came to a stop directly in front of my fox-person. It was a flawless moment in my opinion. There were gasps of awe, I'm sure, as he jumped onto the horse. I jumped off the platform as well, but people tend not to pay as much attention to me.

"Go home, Tornado!" he yelled to his noble steed, who turned and galloped, not for home, since that would have been dangerous, but away from the pueblo. We would reach the cave through a round-about way.

As we raced out of the pueblo, the lancers regained their feet, so everyone was standing and watching us when my fox-person pulled his horse so that it would be seen sideways from the pueblo, and reared, brandishing his sword. Then the horse hit the ground, turned and raced off before the lancers could get after him. Not that they really tried, or if they did, then their skill would best be described as non-existant.

Our first public adventure had gone off without a hitch.

When we returned to the cave, Bernardo fussed over my fox-person, then, convinced he was fine, over the stallion. I was fussed over by my fox-person, who told me repeatedly how well I did. Then he changed back into his normal clothes. My person-fox looked at me and sighed.

"And now to explain to my father why I was absent, and cement even more firmly in his mind my pacifism and cowardice."


	7. After Several Months

_Hey all! So I realize that I'm taking a hell of a long time to post chapters, but I've decided, well come to terms with the fact, that that will simply be the way its going to be. Anyway, my time has been somewhat limited the past few days (visiting relatives), plus it's summer. I've decided that to make life for me easier, the zorra will talk in _**bold**, _Bernardo in italics, and Diego will talk in _normal font_. Another thing, this story will _hopefully_ end with the removal of the current alcalde. Let's hope that I don't completely lose my inspiration before then._

It had been a couple of months. I couldn't say for sure how long it's been because I'm not completely sure how long a month is, not like I was counting the days anyway. But it had been some time, and it was in the middle of the hot quarter of the year, commonly called summer by the people. Or _el_ _verano_. It is a _lot_ hotter in California than in Spain, and this summer heat makes me glad that I spend my days in cave underground rather than upstairs in my person-fox's room. I don't know he handles it I'm sure Tornado is glad of the coolness underground as well. I've been spending time eavesdropping on people, as well as exploring, so I know several of the Dons nearby, and their feelings towards my fox-person, which is always useful information. It helps me know to which person I can go to when I want a drink or simply some company to distract from the monotony filled days wherein there is no activity for el Zorro. Most of the people are in complete accord with him, and all of the peons adore him. It's very pleasant. Sometimes when I walk into the tavern and have a drink with a friendly soul, and then they'll tell me of their troubles. As if they think I'll automatically fix their problems because I'm 'Zorro's' fox. I pass anything I remember on, of course. After all, they do pay for the wine I consume.

I rather like the flavor of wine, and my person-fox absolutely refuses to feed it to me on a regular basis. He thinks drinking is a bad habit I've gotten into. He himself doesn't drink at all; he's worried he'll accidentally give away too much information and get hung for his recent work against the alcalde. Even though the only person who would hang him for that would _be_ the alcalde. I still don't understand how this person manages to stay in power while being so disliked. On the other hand, he himself would often indulge in the fat lancer's love of wine. He explained it as getting information about the lancers that he often had to face, but since I was also getting information by drinking, I think it's all fair.

At the moment, however, I was not drinking, I was tracking. My fox-person had decided that not only would he stop the alcalde's power-hungry dealings, he would also stop anything that threatened the safety and freedom of the people in the pueblo. We were tracking some banditos that had stolen some cows. I'd heard about them in the tavern, and passed the news on to my fox-person, and here we were. Tracking.

The night closed in on us, it was just me, the smells in the air, and the illusive banditos that didn't know how close they were to the jail cell. I breathed in again, processing the many different smells in the air. Behind me, Tornado moved slightly, impatient to be off. I could hear my fox-person's hand as it rubbed against Tornado's neck, calming him. I put the sounds out of my mind, concentrating solely on the smell of cow thieves. I found it, then moved in the direction from which it was strongest. It was about a day old, which meant we would soon find them. As soon as I set off, my fox-person pushed Tornado after me. After a few steps I was more sure of my trail, and began to follow it at a run. Tornado followed. The tail they took was obvious, which was a sign of bad judgment on their part, a common motif with banditos.

My ears flicked back and forth, catching all sounds around me. I kept a sharp watch for the prey I was so arduously hunting. We kept our pace at a slow jog for a good while, until we reached a spot where they had camped at. We stopped, checking around the place. It had been vacated only recently.

"Do you think we can catch them in action, Zorra?" asked my fox-person.

"**Yes.**" I yipped. "**Gone- half hour.**" Which translated as 'they left about a half hour ago'.

We ran from their camp, hot on their trail. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I got ready for the upcoming fight.

We reached them all too quickly. They were approaching the lands of Don Ortiz, who owned a rather large herd of cattle. There were only three of them.

"**Do you want to take them yourself?**_"_ I asked, though not as elaborately. Our last undertaking had been frustratingly simple.

"Intervene if you think necessary," he answered, then rushed in on the banditos.

It wasn't necessary. He quickly unarmed them all, tied them to the back of their horses, and then we brought them in to the pueblo, and dumped them in front of the jail.

"I'm doing your work for you again, alcalde!" yelled my fox-person.

The alcalde looked incredibly displeased. He bellowed his usual "Shoot him, lancers!". My fox-person laughed as he wheeled Tornado around, because nobody _really_ believed that the lancers would shoot the fox. I didn't worry about myself at all, because oddly enough, no one ever aims at me. I suppose they think that if they kill my fox-person then I'd just run off. Little do they know that if they do manage to kill my fox-person, I'll kill them right back. I would be killing them now if my fox-person didn't have such high noble thoughts, which are completely unrealistic by the way. However, as long as he tells me not to kill them, I won't.

We raced out of the pueblo, riding back towards where we caught the banditos. Gunshots filled the air, but the guns are horribly inaccurate. Besides, the lancers don't aim anymore. I don't think _they_ want to shoot him. From what I've overheard, the soldiers rely on my fox-person as much as the peons. They don't mind as much what they have to do under the alcalde's orders because they always know that my fox-person will fix it. I think that's why they don't aim at him. Sometimes, their shots are so bad that I wonder if they don't miss on purpose.

We managed to escape (duh!), after which we rounded up the cows, easier said than done, figured out to who each cow belonged, see previous comment, and returned them to their respective owners. It was late by the time we were finished and had returned to the cave, and all three of us were tired and sleepy. My fox-person unsaddled Tornado and rubbed him down, then came over and began to brush me. So I nuzzled him, and he hugged me. So I reached up and licked his neck. He set his head down on my fur and fell asleep. It seemed like the sensible thing to do, so I stretched out and fell asleep too.

We slept a couple of hours before Bernardo came in and decided to wake us up. He had probably been worried when my fox-person hadn't come into his room. My fox-person yawned and sleepily asked Bernardo what was going on.

Bernardo hesitated, then replied that nothing was going on of import, which was clearly his way of saying 'Go to sleep and I'll tell you later'. So my fox-person changed into his caballero clothes and went to his room, because if Bernardo decided that some piece of information would be hazardous to my fox-person's health, it was impossible to get it out of him.

"What on earth made him decide that his freedom was worth a rude remark?" asked my fox-person after Bernardo had given us the news (about mid-day).

"_You give the people courage,"_ replied Bernardo.

"Courage I'm okay with. What I'm not fine with is this feeling of reckless invincibility."

"_He probably knows you'll save him."_

"So he decided just to take up my time for his little jab at the alcalde?"

"**Know. Wife. Girls, two. Like you."** I yipped. (**"I know him. He has a wife and two girls. They all like you."**) (I'm just going to write out the translated version of what I say. I think it'll be easier for everyone.)

"Yes. And I'm going to have to ride tonight to save him because he couldn't keep his mouth shut about just how much he likes me."

"**You shouldn't drop him off in person, the girls are _infatuated_ with you."** I batted my eyes at him dramatically, causing Bernardo to nearly collapse against the wall in laughter. My fox-person simply looked disgruntled. It was a well known fact that all the single women in the pueblo had very quickly fallen in love with the dashing outlaw, making any of their rescues a big pain. We'd had a run in with this problem only a little while ago, where a girl had actually paid some of her friends to kidnap her so as to be rescued by my fox-person. The memory could still provoke uncontrollable laughter on mine and Bernardo's parts.

"I'm sorely tempted to just leave him in there for general stupidity." continued my fox-person, ignoring my comment.

"_Stupidity isn't a crime. And if it was it wouldn't warrant one week's stay in a prison cell._" commented Bernardo after pulling himself together.

My fox-person sighed. "I know. It's almost lunch, I should see what I can find out about this affair from our dear friend Gonzalez."

Gonzalez is the sound name of the fat lancer. Don Carlos Ruiz is the guy who likes my fox-person and seems to have trouble keeping quiet about it. He's often bought me wine. Usually he orders red wine for me. I think I like red wine more than white wine. Perhaps if I were to go over to his place, his wife and/or children will get me something to drink while they tell me what happened. They would probably wonder if I know about it already. Or maybe not. They might assume that I already know, since my fox-person is supposed to be omnipotent. Hopefully they'll give me a drink either way.

"**I'll go over to his hacienda and comfort his family.**" I yipped.

"Yeah right. You're going over there in the hopes of a free drink." he looked at me pointedly.

"**I can handle my wine. You know I won't spill your secret if I drink a glass too many.**"

"The only reason that you can't tell anyone who I am when you're drunk is because you can't talk coherently after having _one_ drink, let alone one too many. We have a job to do tonight and I'd prefer it if you didn't trip Tornado on the way into the plaza."

I lowered my ears, but sunk down onto the ground in submission. If he clearly words his wish that I don't drink, then I _have_ to abide by his wishes. Besides, he's probably right, and I'd rather not get him killed.

Satisfied that I wasn't going to do anything foolish, my fox-person headed back into the hacienda. Bernardo sympathetically patted my head, then followed. I sighed. If I couldn't have a bowl of wine, then perhaps I could go hunting today. It had been awhile. I stood up, stretched, then exited the cave into the hot, dry air of the Californian landscape.


	8. Disaster!

_I'm back! I was considering just giving up this story for good for a while, because I felt completely at a loss in the plot department. I still am. I only know what's going to happen in this chapter and possibly the one after it. In fact, I don't even have an over-arching general plot other than 'stuff happens, the alcalde leaves'. But on the other hand, I couldn't just leave it where I did, and now people have commented on it and everything. So I'm going to post this chapter that is floating around in my brain, and then stop until I have a plot that actually exists. _

I sat on the wall of the cuartel, watching my fox-person carefully and skillfully eliminate the guards in front of the cell. I could vaguely hear him give Don Carlos a talking to about his foolish behavior, but I wasn't paying much attention to that. I was his look out, which meant that I had to be alert for any sign of the lancers waking, or of the alcalde's. So far, I think we've done pretty well. Most of our rides go through without a hitch. But that's no reason to let our guard down.

Tonight, the cuartel was oddly quiet. Only a very few lancers were there to fight him. Clearly, this was intended as a trap. But then, all of the people the alcalde arrests are used in that manner. We just have to have good reflexes and adapt to whatever is thrown our way.

My fox-person climbed out of the cuartel, as did Don Carlos. We jumped down to Tornado, and made read to go. Somewhere to the left a twig snapped. My head whipped around, and my breath caught as I noticed that there was someone there, leveling a gun at my fox-person, at my reason for living.

"**Fox!**(I figure, I'm just going to completely translate my speaking into just one language. 'Zorro' means fox, so in my language that's what I call him). **Run!**" I yelled. I ran at the lancer, hoping to throw off his aim.

He pulled Don Carlos into the saddle and began to ride off as the hidden lancer shot. I knocked him over. He raised his hands in instinct to protect his face and I secured my teeth into one of those. The left arm, I'm pretty sure. He yelled and screamed, while I sank my teeth in deeper and deeper into his arm. I could taste his blood, I could smell it. I pulled on his arm, bringing another yell from him. I yanked at it again and I could feel as it slid out of its socket. He had regained some sense, and hit me on the shoulders with the gun that he had let fall when I'd rammed into him. The blow made me off balance and I let go of his arm. I turned my head to catch his second blow in my mouth, tasting the metal. He turned, pushing me off of him. I rolled, then settled onto my feet as he dragged himself onto his. I growled. He was holding his gun like a club, ready to whack me if I came closer. My tail swished, I could feel the adrenaline running through my system. I _wanted_ to kill him. I wanted to taste his blood, to see the light in his eyes slowly go out. And he knew it. He couldn't defend himself from me for long, not in his condition. I rushed him, but stopped as he swung his gun in front of himself. His aim was good, it was a good thing that I had stopped, but then, I'd expected him to do that. I was simply playing with him now.

But, unfortunately, the lancers were coming, I could hear them running. Besides, my fox-person doesn't like it when I kill, and he needed me. I didn't have time to fight off the lancers, I needed to be with him.

Too bad the lancer wasn't going to die from blood loss. I should have made him bleed more when I was on him.

I snarled at him, then ran after my fox-person. After a little while, there was blood on the trail. I stopped at the first drop, and smelled it. Tornado was going to Don Carlos' hacienda. Any lancer would be able to track a blood trail there, but they would be able to track him there even without the blood. However, I wasn't completely sure how well he was. It was possible that we'd be guests at Don Carlos' place for a day until my fox-person could ride off, and an abrupt end of the blood trail would lead the lancers to search Don Carlos' hacienda. It also probably wasn't a good idea to let anyone know he'd been injured. So I covered the blood so that it would be untrackable, then followed his tracks again. I continued to confuse the trail all the way to the hacienda.

When I reached the hacienda of Don Carlos, his wife Dona Elena and, of course, his excellent wine cellars, I found Tornado standing in front of the house, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

He was riderless.

I ran inside my mind going over all the fatal places the bullet could ave hit. I'm glad I didn't severe that lancer's spinal cord. He deserved to die slowly.

Inside the house was a bustle of activity, all of it centered around the couch, where my fox-person was lying far too still. Unnoticed in the din, I came up to the couch and jumped on it.

"Hey little fox." He was alive and conscious. Relief swept over me.

"**How are you?**" I asked.

Horrible. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder and he'd lost far too much blood. He was far too pale. "Fine," he answered. "My shoulder hurts a little."

I barked a laugh.

"Actually he isn't as bad as he could be," said Don Carlos. Is wife was washing out my fox-person's wound and was probably going to sew it up. "The bullet missed his vital organs and hasn't shattered his shoulder bone. I'd say luck was on his side. I wouldn't recommend riding anymore tonight though."

"We've gone over this already. I need to get back. I can't put you in that kind of danger. The alcalde's probably going to search your house as it is, it'd be preferable if they didn't find me here."

"He won't. There's a secret passage in this house, I can put you there." Why am I not surprised? This is also an old grand house. I guess they all have hallways in the walls.

"I can make it back." If I let this go on, my fox-person would win the argument. But he looked really bad. One night of rest wouldn't hurt him, but a ride on Tornado might. Especially if I miss a spot of blood that leads to the cave. Or what if he faints the next day when he needs to be among company?

On the other hand, he _is_ awake. And he's stubborn enough that he might make it home safely were Bernardo would look after him. And he'd get a full rest, since Diego wakes up late on a regular basis. And he'd need Tornado to get home, and where would they hide _him_ for a day?

Still, a fall off of Tornado could be fatal right now. It's made even worse by the fact that I have no medical training whatsoever. I'll need to run home to tell Bernardo so he can come up with a good excuse, and hope Tornado isn't found.

"**You are more likely to fly than make it back awake. I'll tell the servant **(names are difficult to pronounce for me) **what happened. He'll make an excuse for you. Ask them if they can hide Tornado.**"

They looked at my fox-person for a translation. Only my fox-person understood me. The rest of them could barely understand me when I said 'whi, wees' (wine, please), or something sounding similar. Those were the only words I tried to make sound like the human ones. Some of my other words didn't sound at all. For example, 'love', or 'infatuation', I communicated with the batting of my eyes and a dramatic sigh.

Anyway, he said "She says I should stay. Can you hide Tornado for a day then?"

They looked rather relieved their hero wasn't going to idiotically kill himself riding home. "Of course, there is room in the cave."

Unfortunately my fox-person was lucid enough to notice my appearance. "Why is there blood on your muzzle?"

"**Any reason there shouldn't be?**" Maybe he'd faint before he got properly indignant about my actions.

"Did you kill that lancer, Zorra?"

"**No! He'll survive.**" I looked down, then continued before he could begin a lecture about not killing people. Which I didn't agree with at all, by the way."**I'm off then. Get some rest.**" I licked him, then ran towards the hacienda, stopping to calm Tornado down long enough for some ranch hand to catch him. He looked slightly put out when I left.

When I entered the cave, I found Bernardo asleep in Tornado's stall, dutifully waiting for my fox-person to return from his midnight stroll. I nuzzled him until he woke up.

Of course, first thing he did was look around, then ask me where my fox-person was.

"**At the prisoner's. He got shot in the shoulder. They say he should be fine.**" I tried to look properly hopeful. Bernardo just looked worried. My fox-person's absence spoke for itself. "**You need to avert suspicion away from the fox.**"

"_Of course. You're sure he'll be fine?_"

"**Yes. You can probably go see him tomorrow with the fox's father. I'm sure he'll go over to talk to the prisoner.**"

Bernardo nodded, but didn't look completely convinced.

"_I'll tell them he's off bird-watching, and won't be expected back for two to three days. That'll make sure he can't return until at least tomorrow."_

He headed for the hacienda, dutifully covering up all emotion before facing anyone. That's what we all had to do when it came to my fox-person; our duty. Put all our emotions on hold and just do what we could to make sure that he survives to ride another day. I lay down for a while, then got back up, restless. I needed to be with my fox-person, and Bernardo probably would have no need of me. Besides, I'm sure the family would find it suspicious if I stayed away from my fox-person. I left the cave and headed towards the place where my fox-person lay wounded, and probably unconscious by now. Which would hopefully spare me a lecture. For today, at least.


End file.
